my mother's suite.
"We're sure Camellia's not going to be there?" I asked softly, my hand squeezing around Cresswell's arm.
"Aric said his tracking charm has her in her suite with her Chosen," Cresswell said.
I hummed and nodded, knocking on the door, a feminine call to enter answering. Cresswell's hand moved mine from his arm, and he offered me a brief smile before nudging me forward.
"It's just a room of women," he said. He wanted to laugh, I could tell. And I wanted to tell him how dangerous a room of women could be, at least mentally if not also physically, but I didn't want Cresswell overreacting.
I took one deep breath to steel myself, and then opened the door and stepped inside. My mother's sitting room was full of bouquets, overflowing vases spilling out orchids and roses and anemones and always peonies, fresh from the capital's best hothouses. A low table took up the majority of the center of the room, covered in trays of confections and pastries, pots of tea and cups of steaming chocolate. And on every settee and in every chair, rested a woman in a fine gown.
My mother was dressed in blue velvet, even wearing rings and a jeweled necklace. Her gaze was clear as she found me at the door, a bright smile on her lips. "There you are, my darling, come and sit with me!"
A dozen women's heads all snapped in my direction. Amelia and her beautiful niece Ophelia were sharing a settee, but the rest of the faces were unfamiliar. Most were young, around my own age or a little older, and a few had older women at their sides like Ophelia did, probably mothers or aunts with some royal connection to help them gain the position of my lady-in-waiting.
"The guards can stay out in the hall," Amelia said.
"No," Cresswell and I said at the same time. Amelia's answering expression was somewhat sour. That was twice now I'd refused her.
"I think Bryony is a little partial to her handsome guard," my mother said, sweetly teasing.
I twisted in my seat on my mother's couch to find Cresswell behind me, standing and blushing, and I grinned, leaning briefly into my mother's side. "Very partial," I admitted happily.
All around me, the women in the room tittered like birds, scratching at me. The jealousy that had stabbed at me the night of our arrival wasn't quite as potent here in my mother's sitting room. I didn't have to contend with a room full of women admiring my Chosen this time. But I still understood why I was here. I was expected to grant the favor of prestige to a few noble houses by choosing companions for myself.
I knew my mother's ladies-in-waiting managed my mother's meals and her choice of dresses, and even occasionally her correspondence, so that she might carry on lovemaking with her Chosen. My grandmother's managed more of the social events of the castle—balls and state meetings with the council—and soon that task would be passed onto my mother's women. I had too much on my mind to worry about planning balls, so help might be appreciated in that area, but I could dress myself without an extra opinion easily, and I planned on taking a personal interest in my own meetings with the council rather than leaving it to someone else to manage.
"I am so happy to have my daughter home again, and with such handsome Chosen!" my mother cried with a clap of her hands and a tender smile aimed in my direction. "And while there is no blessing to our line like finding our Chosen, I have always taken great comfort in my ladies, Bryony. It would reassure me so well if you were to choose a few for yourself."
I forced a smile for my mother, which was sufficient because Amelia stood and bowed to us both.
"If I might begin with the introductions, Your Majesty."
"Of course, Amelia, please."
I watched, my hands folded in my lap, fingernails digging into my own palm, as Amelia moved to Ophelia first, the pair simpering and smiling as if I hadn't already roundly rejected the suggestion.
Cresswell stood behind me, towering in a room full of ladies on low settees, and I paid attention to the gazes that wandered in his direction. I knew the claw and bite of the Hunger's jealousy was irrational. I trusted Cresswell and all my Chosen in their faithfulness to me. What I didn't trust were the familiar family names of Amelia's introductions. These women